Scavengers
by Guu Brick
Summary: *Takes place right after Evolution* Vampire and freelance weapons engineer Quentin has apparently been marked for death after the collapse of the Old World Coven. He and his band of Scavengers (Sean - a "Death Dealer dropout", Sebastian - an alcoholic immortal human, and Tim - an anthropomorphic lycan) fight to survive and uncover earth shattering secrets amongst their struggle.
1. Guys' Night In, Part I

**Chapter One: Guys' Night In, Part I**

A knock on glass. Sean woke up to what looked like glitter on his window shield. The blue-tinted fluorescent street lamp outside brought leftover raindrops to life.

Another knock on glass. Sean looked over to see a man donning dark aviators and gruffly sporting a soul patch over a goatee. _A walking burden but a useful companion._

Sean lowered the side window.

"Sebastian?" Sean began to inquire.

"Yooo," Sebastian heaved out, throwing up what looked like gang signs.

"Never mind," Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. "You already answered my question."

"What?" Sebastian asked. His drunken obliviousness was fuming. Sean already felt ill from it.

"Just get in the car, Sebastian," said Sean as he rolled up the window.

Sebastian fumbled himself into the car. He sat awkwardly in the passenger seat, leaned back into the headrest, and sighed with drunken content. He scratched his stubble and adjusted his leather jacket. Then the snoring ensued.

Sean felt his eye twitch cartoonishly at the sight of Sebastian. His hand gripped the steering wheel while the other grabbed his own face, practically clawing into it. Then he pounded his fist repeatedly on the car horn.

"Woah, woah!" Sebastian flailed awake, whipping out his revolver. "What's going on?!"

"You forgot to close the fucking door, you blithering lunk!" Sean yelled.

Sebastian gave Sean a puzzled look, still brandishing his weapon. He looked to his side and saw that the door was indeed open.

"Oh fuck," Sebastian slurred as he holstered the revolver. "The door's open."

"Yeah," Sean dug his face into his palms. "I just kind of asked you to close it."

"Well that wasn't really asking," Sebastian continued to slur as he reached for the door. "That was more like yelling."

He brought the door inward ever so gently. Maybe too gently. The door bounced off and it spread back out to where it was before. Sebastian reached for the door again, pulled it too gently again, and it bounced off…again.

"IF ANYTHING," Sean resumed his yelling. "HOW ABOUT YOU USE BOTH HANDS?!"

Sebastian held up his index finger as if something revolutionary had just been realized.

"That sounds like a good idea," he slurred.

"IT DOES, DOESN'T IT?" Sean felt like his eyes could shoot heat-rays at the drunken mess before him.

Sebastian reached with both hands and pulled the door too gently…again. Once the door bounced off, Sean stormed out of the car. He went to the passenger side and kicked the door in, prompting a muffled scream from Sebastian.

Sean plopped back into the driver's seat and slammed his own door.

"You're an asshole," Sebastian winced as he gripped his shoulder.

Sean turned on the ignition and buckled his seatbelt.

"Hold on," Sebastian grunted as he proceeded to buckle himself.

"You'll be just fine," Sean dryly uttered.

He then shifted the vehicle to drive and sped off. The car's momentum yanked Sebastian back against his seat. He spewed out curses of agony that tickled Sean with satisfaction.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" said Sean. "What happened to that healing factor of yours?"

"Alright!" Sebastian cried out. "I get it!"

"Time to sober up, fucker!" Sean cackled.

'Won't Get Fooled Again' by The Who played softly from Quentin's stereo. He sat comfortably in his living room reading a newspaper – a dying breed as far as reading apparatuses go. He didn't like reading on electronic devices. It was straining to the eyes. Yet he was surrounded by technology – a weapons engineer formerly contracted to a rapidly collapsing system of vampire covens. Although he himself was a vampire, Quentin wasn't frightened at the loss of income and favors. He had other, more interesting buyers. There were way more human wars than vampire and lycan wars anyway.

Reading an article about a docked ship exploding in Hungary gave him hope. The explosion wiping out most of what was on that ship let Quentin know exactly who occupied it: Alexander Corvinus - the watcher, the forefather of both vampires and lycans, 'Big Daddy Alex' (as Quentin liked to call him). Very few knew he was still alive. Quentin had the luxury of being one of those few. Now Big Daddy Alex was dead.

Then there was the bad news. The same article proceeded to talk about the man named Michael Corvin. Quentin's heart especially skipped at this when he read about him being with an "armed and dangerous woman". _As long as there is such a thing as a Death Dealer, there will always be problems._

Quentin didn't even get to finish the article. He set the newspaper aside when he read that the Death Dealer and her hybrid boyfriend were still at large. The paper obviously didn't actually say "Death Dealer" or "hybrid boyfriend". But at least it was correct in referring to the two as "highly dangerous." This was worrying news that piled on worrying rumors. Word had gone out about the revival of Big Daddy Alex's twin sons, Markus and William – the first vampire and the first lycan.

Quentin hoped to keep his anxiety at bay, but it had already flushed through his body down to the bone. He needed blood wine. No, he needed water. Even vampires needed to watch their alcohol intake. Plus, the "moderate, drinkable levels" of alcohol in blood wine were technically damaging to Quentin's system. All creatures of the world need to stay hydrated. Vampires and lycans are no exception. Quentin downed a glass of water. It was quite refreshing and alleviated his anxiety. Then there was a buzz on the intercom and his anxiety returned.

Quentin knew who was buzzing but he questioned whether or not he wanted to speak to them. He walked up to the intercom and pressed to speak: "You're late."

"We know that," said a man on the other end. "Don't sound so annoyed. You're not the one who's partnered with a mess."

"Who was the one that decided to embark on their task with said mess?" Quentin shot back.

There was a sigh from the other end. "Could you at least let us in?"

"Okay," said Quentin. "But you do realize that I really don't want to?"

"And you do realize that you sound like a bitch?"

"My point exactly."

Quentin opened the door to a half mess accompanied by a complete mess. The half mess brushed away his silky black bangs and slapped on horrendously fake smile, revealing vampire teeth of his own. The complete mess seemed to be in another galaxy, staring into space with his lopsided dark aviators.

"Yeah," sighed Quentin.

"Jeez," said the half mess. "What a greeting."

"Fine," said Quentin. "Hello, Sean. Hello-…" Quentin just started at the complete mess who didn't even seem to know where he was. "Again?"

"I guess we're both delusional for thinking otherwise," said Sean.

"Sebastian?" Quentin called out to the complete mess who still seemed to linger in a far-off galaxy. "Sebastian."

"Don't even bother," said Sean. "He's a lost cause."

Quentin clawed his fingers through his hair. He wanted to tear off a handful of follicles but he kept his composure.

"This is the reason why I'd rather not have you guys actually in my home," he said.

"We do need a place to stay," said Sean.

"I know that. But do you remember the last time you two came over?"

"I do and nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Absolutely," Sean widened his shit-eating grin.

"Managing to somehow vomit in five different places at once isn't out of the ordinary?" Quentin asked.

Sean snickered. "That wasn't my fault," he said. "It was…"

Sebastian started to waltz away. He didn't go unnoticed.

"Seb?" Sean called out.

There was no response – just Sebastian's fading footsteps.

"Hold on," said Sean. "I'll get him."

Sean departed. Quentin slumped his side against the frame of the doorway and peeked out. Quentin jumped a little when he heard a disturbing grunting noise. He stepped out and barely saw the duo in the darkness of the tunnel. There was another grunt but this time it was more familiar – inconveniently familiar.

"Quent?" Sean's voice called out. "Do you have a towel?"

"Oh fuck!" burst Quentin.


	2. Guys' Night In, Part II

**Chapter Two: Guys' Night In, Part II**

Unfortunately for Quentin, Sebastian ended up throwing up again inside moments later. Now there was a complete mess using his shower and a half mess using his laundry machine. The bile of an immortal human contaminated his shower, his laundry machine, and the floor he was now mopping.

As Quentin mopped, he suddenly felt Sean's presence. It was a presence that clung to his back like unyielding demon claws. Such a feeling seemed to linger ever since he met Sean. Before he allowed Sean to open his idiotic mouth, Quentin addressed him: "What?"

"Look," Sean started. "I'm sorry-…"

"Don't worry about it, Sean," Quentin said as used his bucket's mop squeezer, not even bothering to look at Sean. "It wasn't like it was something out of the ordinary."

"Wow," said Sean. "You were just waiting to tell me that, weren't you?"

Quentin threw the mop's handle against the wall. Sean flinched at the jarring noise it made.

"I don't know, Sean," said Quentin. "I probably do look forward to this. Maybe I secretly long for your company. That's why I'm openly blatant about not wanting you over my house."

"Alright," Sean threw his hands up. "Seb fucked up."

"You _both _fucked up," Quentin added.

"Yes," Sean nodded cautiously. "We both fucked up. Or how about this, _I_ fucked up. I was hoping to bring Seb over so he could crash, sleep it out, and I would assist with his hangover. That makes me responsible for this whole mess."

"How courteous of you," Quentin put on a smile that burned with anger. "You always mean well but yet it never seems to work out, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Sean nodded, slowly lowering his head like a scolded child.

"I'm not going to baby you, Sean," Quentin straightened his face. "I'm not going to reward you with some kind of medal because you fucking meant well. Although it wasn't as bad as last time, we somehow ended up in a situation where Sebastian vomited in my house _again_. I truly hope you recognize how childish this shit is."

It was difficult for a pure blood vampire like Quentin to understand the mess that was human incompetence. For Quentin, Sean was barely a vampire. Having been turned only a couple of years before, Sean still retained those unbearable human qualities Quentin loathed so much. And as long as Sebastian continued to indulge in his alcoholism, Quentin considered him a mere monster with no thought and no path. It had gotten to a point where Sebastian's usefulness as a perfect marksman was what was kept him from being disposed. Yet there were the conflicting feelings. Somehow and some way, Quentin still considered them his good friends.

"Alright," said Sean. "I get it. We're fuckups. I'll make sure Sebastian gets new clothes, I'll grab the laundry, and you'll be free from us for the night."

"Yeah," Quentin scoffed. "For the night."

"Oh stop it, Quent," Sean groaned as he walked back to the laundry room.

Quentin washed up, left the mop to dry, and threw himself onto the sofa face first. He just lay there. It was difficult to admit that he sometimes enjoyed the duo's company. _Sometimes_ – just as long as sobriety was involved. Otherwise, they became unbearable burdens.

Then the intercom buzzed.

"Fuck!" Quentin screamed into the cushion. He shot up and walked to the front door.

_I should have a gun with me at all times._

With the way things were, he wouldn't be surprised if there was a squad of lycans waiting on the other end.

The intercom had a small LCD screen under it. Quentin switched it on and it revealed a very familiar, relieving figure.

"Walk down the tunnel please," said Quentin.

"Uhh, sure," responded the figure.

When Quentin opened the door, he looked up to the figure that stood 8 feet tall. It was a lycan. Not any ordinary lycan. This one's face was more wolf-like and more mellow than ferocious. This one wore a shirt…an awful button down shirt. But Quentin didn't dare openly comment on it.

"Do you know how hard it is to find your place?" said the lycan.

"It's called staying off the grid, Tim," said Quentin. "It's a vampire thing. Unlike lycans who hide out in sewers."

Tim the lycan shook his head. "You're not happy," he said. "I'm mean, you're usually uptight."

"Gee thanks," Quentin rolled his eyes as he waved Tim in and shut the door.

"But even with your uptightness," Tim continued as he plopped onto the armchair adjacent to the sofa, crossing his legs. "You're usually not this blatant about your racism toward lycans and humans."

"My racism toward…" Quentin winced. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind," Tim smiled. "I don't know what I'm talking about."

"No-no-no," Quentin sat on the sofa. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh boy," Tim sighed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Quentin repeated more sternly.

"Do I really have to explain?" Tim asked.

Quentin locked his impatient glare on Tim.

"Wow," Tim said. "I guess I have to. Well, you're a vampire. And I'm a lycan, right?"

"Wrong one!" a voice came from the interior of the house. Quentin couldn't tell if it was Sean or Sebastian. He really didn't care.

"What was that?" Tim's wolf ears perked up.

"The dummies are here," said Quentin. "But please continue."

"Okay?" Tim blinked. "Well, you're a vampire and I'm a lycan."

"Right," said Quentin.

"We have our differences."

"Right."

"Could you let me finish?"

"I'm just enforcing the fact that I don't have a lot of patience and I want you to get to the point as soon as possible. So please. Continue."

"Well, thinking about it now, it is kind of a long explanation."

"Then don't call me a racist."

Tim shifted his eyes nervously. "Okay, then," he said. "This is comforting."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Quentin asked.

"Just wanted to make sure you were alright," Tim said. "And I'm kind of glad I came. You look miserable."

"Trust me," said Quentin. He slouched over and folded his hands close to his mouth. "Sean and Sebastian is just the tip of the iceberg. That Selene girl is causing all sorts of problems."

"Don't forget to mention that hybrid she's running around with," said Tim. "Man, oh man. Who would've guessed things would come to this."

Tim uncrossed his legs and met with Quentin slouch-to-slouch – or at least he tried to. Quentin cocked an eyebrow.

"You know there's a chance she might go after you," said Tim.

"What do you think I've been doing all these nights?" said Quentin. "I haven't exactly been acting like everything's going to be okay. I can't even sleep during the day. These are dreaded times, Tim. And I dread them the most."

"Yo, Tim!" Sean's jarring voice made Quentin flinch.

"What's up, Sean?" Tim sat back and waved. He pointed to Quentin. "I heard you've been causing this guy trouble."

"It's not like I do it on purpose," said Sean. "Although he deserves it."

"That's funny," said Quentin. "Because a moment ago you softened up when I scolded you like a little child. And now that Tim is hear, you suddenly have balls?"

"Oh snap," said Tim. "He said you have no balls, Sean."

"Thank you, Tim," said Quentin. "You play the role of the instigator well. It suits you."

"Yeah, Tim," said Sean. "With your shirt that you got from a uniform thrift shop."

Laughter burst out of Quentin.

"What?" Tim tugged at his own shirt. "This shirt isn't that bad."

"Yes it is!" yelled Sean. "I bet you during the day Tim goes around in human form with coupons to 'Old Men's Wear'."

Tim's head rocked back in laughter – a deep-pitched cackle. Quentin had already doubled over. He found it remarkable how Sean was able to turn things around.

"That is a terrible shirt," Sean added.

"I have to agree, Tim," Quentin recollected. "That shirt isn't exactly appealing to the eyes."

"Damn, guys," said Tim. "I can't believe you're attacking me like this. I heard you guys were having trouble getting along and I was willing to help."

"You are," Sean said without a beat. "You're our punching bag for verbal insults."

Another session of laughter. Then silence. Quentin was the first one to notice Sebastian enter the room. Sebastian held his head with both hands.

"You sobered up?" Sean asked.

"I don't think the average human being is able to survive a hangover like this," Sebastian said hoarsely.

"To be honest, Sebastian," Quentin started. "I'm glad you feel pain. I know that sounds harsh but what if your healing factor just disappears one day? You have to stop abusing it like that."

"I know, know," Sebastian sighed as he plopped on a sofa across from where Quentin was sitting.

"No one wants to constantly deal with a vomit bag, Seb," Tim added smugly.

"I know, Tim," said Seb, nodding his head. Quentin tightened his smile. Sebastian's nodding was a dead giveaway that he had a gem coming. "Thanks for the additional advice, boy-scout-shirt."

Everyone except for Sebastian exploded in laughter. All Sebastian could do was lightly chuckle.

"I don't understand though," said Tim.

"The problem with your shirt is that it's old-fashioned and it looks wrong on you," explained Sean. "_Especially_ on you with your dumb anthro form. It makes me sick. I might end up vomiting next."

Suddenly, there was a buzz on the door. Quentin's anxiety came back with a vengeance.

"Who else knows you live here?" asked Sean.

Quentin kept his eyes on the front door. "Only you three."


	3. Guys' Night In, Part III

**Chapter Three: Guy's Night In, Part III**

There was a sudden muffled thud. Sean's eyes lit up. "Breach charge!" he yelled as he pushed Sebastian to the ground. "Get down!"

Quentin followed suit. Sean brought out his two Beretta 92FS pistols. He slid one of them to Quentin along with an extra mag. Quentin checked the chamber. There was already a round inside. _Sean may be a mess but he knows how to be prepared._

Tim lifted the armchair.

"Tim!" Sean yelled. "What are you doing?!"

"We were having a good time," said Tim. "It's time we get it back."

The front door exploded into splinters. A lycan hopped in, snarling and looking for blood. Then its face caved in by a projected armchair and it was no more.

Quentin aimed his gun over the sofa and fired. Sean followed suit.

Tim dove next to Sebastian.

"I got Seb," said Tim.

"We'll cover you," said Sean.

Without a beat, they fired away at the front entrance. By the time they had to reload, Tim and Sebastian had disappeared into safety.

"Quent," Sean asked as he released his 92FS's slide. "I know this is a bad time to ask. But could you not have The Who play while this is happening?"

"You're kidding, right?" Quentin asked. He had forgotten his stereo was playing.

"No," Sean said with a straight face. "Either play Sabbath or turn it off."

"You truly are unbelievable," Quentin winced at Sean.

"I'll cover you," Sean said. "Trust me."

Quentin grumbled as he ran from his cover. Sean fired away. He went to the stereo and regretfully switched it to the next playlist. Then there was familiar distorted, repeating cough – it was the beginning of Black Sabbath's 'Sweet Leaf'.

Quentin returned to his cover to find Sean wearing an obnoxiously smug smile.

"Now you can't ever tell me Sabbath stinks," said Sean.

"Shut up," said Quentin.

There was nothing but silence from the doorway.

"Cover me," said Sean as he moved closer to it.

There was a slight pause that was instantly broken by automatic gunfire. Sean hugged his back against the wall beside the doorway. Quentin returned fire. Sean was yelling something. But the gunfire muffled his cry. Quentin kept firing until his pistol's slide locked back.

"Quentin!" he heard Sean yell.

It all happened so fast. The next moment, Quentin found himself on the ground clinging to his ear – or what was left of it. A bullet had torn through its flesh and now it was a flappy, bloody mess. It burned too. _Ultraviolet rounds. They have to be here for me._

The barrel of a machine gun poked in. A lycan commando slowly walked. Sean grabbed him by the neck and sunk a combat knife through his cheek. There was a gurgled scream that was cut off abruptly when Sean twisted. Sean removed the knife and the lycan commando dropped to the ground. Quentin, with his one intact ear, could hear the overflow of blood. _First vomit, now blood. Great._

There was a heavy growl and Sean was suddenly knocked across the living room. 'Sweet Leaf' faded out just in time for Sean to crash into the stereo.

Still gripping his ear, Quentin sat up. Big mistake. Two snarling lycans were looking down at him.

"You lycans have terrible timing," remarked Quentin.

He was pretty sure one of the lycans smiled. It created ugly sadism in the their face – that 'say goodnight' look. There were two most common deaths for vampires. The first was being unable to escape the sun. The second was being mauled and torn apart by lycans. These were the two deaths Quentin feared suffering the most. With Sean seemingly unconscious, it looks he was going to suffer the latter.

Then there was the flying refrigerator. What happened next left Quentin gawking. A full-sized, steel fridge seemed to have hurled itself at both lycans. There was the crisp combined sound of low-pitched-metal-donging, bone-crushing, and muffled glass-shattering.

Tim tumbled onto the ground from the same direction, huffing and puffing.

"Damn that thing's heavy," he breathed.

Not everyone could say that when facing death they were saved by a werewolf throwing a refrigerator – especially by a friendly werewolf wearing an awful 'uniform thrift shop' shirt. Or a 'boy scout' shirt.

Both the assaulting lycans seemed lifeless. The refrigerator rested on both their bodies.

Quentin heard groaning behind him. He turned to find Sean rolling on a pile that used to be a stereo on a wooden night table. He noticed Sean gripping his side – possibly a broken rib. Most internal injuries healed relatively quickly for vampires. As far as a missing ear goes…Quentin hated himself for even thinking the following: _We'll play it by ear_.

Quentin helped Sean up. There was a gash on Sean's head that seemed to have already healed halfway. Quentin led him to the sofa

"I didn't expect that one," Sean said as he sunk into the sofa's cushion, holding his head with one hand and his side with the other.

"No one did," said Quentin, patting Sean on the shoulder.

Quentin heard Tim grunting. The shirted lycan was up on two feet now.

"Are you alright?" Quentin asked Tim.

"Holy shit," Tim's wolf eyes widened. "I should be asking you the same thing."

"I'll be fine," said Quentin, pondering the chances of his ear growing back. "Sean got it worse."

There was another growl. Tim and Quentin quickly turned around.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Sean muttered without looking.

One of the lycans, face practically mangled, rose from under the refrigerator. It feebly pushed the refrigerator from the side and hacked up blood, spitting it on the floor. It then let out a gurgled growl. _One last bout. Typical lycan._

"I got this," said Tim, cracking his big werewolf knuckles.

Then there was a gunshot. The bullet tore right between the belligerent lycan's eyes and then out the back. It created a red-and-maroon wallpaper behind the lycan who dropped with a sloshy thud.

There was the sound of trudging footsteps from the hallway opposite the front door. The smoking stainless steel barrel of a Ruger Blackhawk single action revolver poked in. Enter Sebastian – the man that never misses even in the midst of a hangover. He looked over at everyone with sickly eyes that started to roll back. He then dropped to the floor. Tim ran and took Sebastian to the sofa opposite Sean – the one riddled with bullet holes. Fortunately for Sebastian, such damage didn't take away the furniture's comfort. He lay there unconscious.

Quentin plopped himself next to Sean. There was a moment of silence. The gang lived. Now it was a matter of who those lycans were and who sent them. It was also a matter of being prepared for another attack like that. In the meantime, rest was the key. The only problem was that they were now exposed.


End file.
